The First Time
by hopelesslydevoted2svu
Summary: Summary: Daryl's first time. This is based on Norman Reedus' comment that Daryl was a virgin. Of course, he meant emotionally. I choose to take it literally, very literally.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing except of course this story idea and any characters that I may create.

The First Time

Summary: Daryl's first time. This is based on Norman Reedus' comment that Daryl was a virgin. Of course, he meant emotionally. I choose to take it literally, very literally.

The circumstances were not important. They were irrelevant because they were here now. In the dark room, on the old creaky borrowed bed. Alone. Yes, the circumstances were irrelevant as their accelerated breathing circulated in the room. Her blue eyes shy and needy locked on his. They reminded him of the lake behind the Dawson's old house where some of the only good memories like fishing with Merle resided from his childhood. Her eyes were a cerulean blue just like that lake on those first days of spring. It was a quite a metaphor. Wasn't that what his eight grade teacher constantly was yacking about, metaphors? He never really the understood concept back then but now he did. Yes. Her eyes reminded him of that lake because right at this moment, he was drowning in the shimmering depths of their blueness unable to inhale.

She was unsure. A myriad of sensations frightened and excited. The look in his eyes. God, it took her breath. Her body vibrated, the adrenaline swirling around to settle in her lower belly. A deep, aching need building. A prayer on her lips. God, please let this be happening.

He reached forward his hand less than steady as it landed on her bare arm. His fingers gripped, tightly. His fingertips savoring the warm, soft texture. His eyes dropped from her eyes to her lips, watching as they parted slightly, an open door invitation. He lurched forward. It was ungraceful their first kiss. His lips pressed hard and eager against hers. He was completely unprepared for the overwhelming need for more that soared through his body. It was different than anything he had ever experienced before.

His lips pressed against hers with a fever that she had not anticipated. She gasped a little her own hand coming up to clutch at the well-defined bicep of his right arm. When he broke for air his breath hot, panting over her mouth, she took control. She leaned forward capturing his upper lip between hers sucking lightly. His response somewhere between a growl and grown grew her timid confidence. It wasn't like she was used to taking the initiative or control. Her life up to this point had been all about lack of control to the point of repression. Hell, she had only been with one man.

When she took his lip between hers, he almost came in his pants. The sensation zipping and zinging through his body causing tightening everywhere including his heart. Did she know? His inexperience taunted him. He was backward and surely in this she would realize just how much.

Her eyes opened as she ran her tongue along his lower lip. It was so full, taunting her with its plumpness. She was surprised when his tongue darted out, grazing hers. She could have cried with the pleasure of it. She moaned as his tongue slid into her mouth.

His tongue alive in her mouth, exploring. The slip and slide of tongue against tongue. The ache between her legs grew and her panties dampened.

Was it like this every time with everyone? It couldn't possibly be, right? Or who would ever get anything done? God. Her mouth. She tasted so sweet, a flavor he couldn't define as anything else. His tongue moved veraciously over hers. He could do this all day and all night except his body was throbbing for more. God, did she taste this good everywhere? She was sure to be the death of him.

Their mouths broke free as they both gasped for breath, staring at one another. Their expression mirrored in each other's eyes. Shock and awe.

"Fuck," he choked out.

She swallowed hard, stumbling in her speech. "I..."

His eyes narrowed on hers, his nostrils flared a little. "Ya,"

She shook her head. What the hell was she going to say she could barely string together comprehensible thought much less full sentences?

His hand slid up her bare arm brushing across her shoulder coming into contact with the weather worn cotton sleeveless that she wore often. He moved over the material quickly, slowing as his fingers ran into the bare skin of her neck. Oh! Warmer, soft skin. His fingers splayed out moving steadily to slide up the column of her neck curling around the back bringing her mouth and head back to him. Oh yes, that mouth.

His kiss was hungry and eager. It took only a couple of seconds before their mouths fell into a rhythm, their rhythm. She barely registered the change in position as he eased them backward onto the bed. She moved her hands to circle his neck. Her fingers threading upward into his soft, fine hair.

He moaned as his body moved on top of hers. His knees instinctively insinuating themselves between her legs, working them apart. It was not difficult, she put up zero resistance and he was determined. He lifted and shifted aligning himself. "Fuck!" The word roared from his mouth as his body fell perfectly against hers and her hips cradled him, welcomingly.

Fuck, she thought. His hips moved. Her hips moved. This way and then that way. The outline of his erection rubbing against her clothed core. Their bodies beginning a deliciously carnal bump and grind. She was going to come. In her pants. Yes, fuck was definitely the word. She wanted him to fuck her. It was the most graphic thought of her life.

His mouth rose and descended, latching onto the delicate skin of her neck. He sucked. Hard. Her skin tasted as good as her mouth slightly salty from the fine layer of sweat building. He nipped, wanting to devour her struck by an overwhelming possessive need to mark her. No one would ever touch her, now. She was his. "Carol," he groaned her name into her neck. "_Please._" He had no idea and every idea of what he was pleading for in that moment.

Her fingers tightened in his hair as their movements sped up. His body pressing harder and faster into hers. Her hips arching up seeking out the pressure with an all-encompassing fervency. The burn was relentless inside her. She was not used to this intensity, this feeling. Never in all the times Ed had sex with her did she feel this way like she hurling toward the cusp. It excited and frightened her. She remembered only feeling like this once when she had been alone in the house using the vibrator she had bought in a moment of desperation. The vibrator made her feel like this. This aching climb but she had pulled back in fear from the intensity of the feelings. It had been too much. Her heart racing, she wondered would this be too much?

A/N: Let me know if it is worth continuing? My original thought was to capture Daryl first time with sex and Carol's first time having an orgasm. It could get graphic if you want. LOL! Too my SVU readers, I will try to update something this week or weekend!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Walking Dead. I only own this story idea.

A/N: This story is M. This chapter is dedicated to Carol's thoughts exclusively. Daryl's point of view will be next. I hope it does not suck, first person is harder to write.

Chapter 2

In my head...

I can't. I can't do this. The words swirl in my brain like a little chant. My heart is literally pounding with every press and thrust he makes. It's too much. Now that it is a reality and not some dream, some fantasy, it was just too much. I am losing control. I know it. It is almost comical how scared I am in this moment, how much I fear the loss. Surely no one in the group would every believe it. Meek, Carol. Controlled, Carol. But this was so much different than the control Ed had exercised over me for fifteen years; this was for control of my heart and soul something I locked away years ago. I needed to stop this. Now.

"_Daryl_," I whispered. God, did I really sound like that. My voice was so low and breathless that even I barely recognized it.

His mouth lingered, hovering just over mine. His breath was coming into my mouth in quick, heated pants. I dared to lift my eyes to his, immediately regretting it. His eyes half closed and all glazed, locked on mine. Oh, God, it did little for my resolve. Daryl Dixon was above me, looking all kinds of flustered. Flushed. Hot. Hard. That last one, I could feel pressing rather insistently against me.

"_Carol_," he whispered.

I don't think my name ever sounded as good as it did now slipping from his lips in an incredibly huskier version of his normal southern tinged drawl. I loved it. Loved the unbridled lust that dripped from each syllable, unrestrained. I closed my eyes, trying to gather some semblance of strength, of control.

"_Did I hurt ya_?"

I shook my head. How was I going to do this? I didn't want him to stop. Not really. Not at all at least my body didn't. My head was another matter constantly interrupting the pleasurable buzz that was deliciously running the length of my body. I wanted to turn off my brain surrender it to this moment but I couldn't shake my nagging fears, fears of what was next. Was I really going to give up this moment, this time with Daryl because of fear?

"Look at me." His voice low but demanding broke through my reverie.

It wasn't a request. I opened my eyes to his once again. His eyes dark with arousal so dark, it was almost impossible to discern the color. "_I_..." I stumbled with my words. So damn unsure, I hated it. Why was I always like this, timid?

He sucked my upper lip between his and I felt it all the way to my toes. "_Gawd. Woman. Ya taste so good_."

And so did he. Amazingly, so. His lips were soft as they hugged and tugged at my own lips, his mouth continuing it's gentle assault on mine. His hips began to rock slower but harder against me in a blissfully grinding rhythm hitting just the right spot even through our layers of clothing. "_Carol...Carol...Carol_."

Jesus Christ, it felt better than good, better than anything before. His chants of my name into and against my mouth made it nearly impossible to think. If I gave this to him, surrendered to it, I would never find my way back. This was different for him. I knew it had to be. Sex always was for men. It always meant more for women. Like most women, I had never been one to be able to separate sex and love. My feelings for him were so deep, growing with every day. Like the roots of a tree, he had wound inside my heart, deep into my heart and that was the problem. One day, he would decide or this crazy life would decide it was time to pull those roots and I would not survive it, of that I was certain.

"_Wanted ya so long. So much...Mmmmm_."

I felt his tongue rub and glide over my own. It felt so good that I wanted to cry. His hand had found the hem of my shirt playing with it for several minutes with a hesitancy that I could not understand. Maybe, he thought I wanted it slower, gentler. Or maybe he sensed my intent to stop.

"_Gawd. Carol. Baby_."

Groans and his hand finally sliding underneath the hem of my shirt punctuated his words. My stomach tightened and trembled at the roughed texture of his palm as it slid slowly over my side. His fingers moved across my skin at an agonizingly slow pace as if he were savoring every inch. Each fingertip gliding against the surface of my skin leaving a trail of scorched skin in its wake, my resolve to stop this was getting more and more weak as his touch grew bolder and his words seeped into my heart and head.

"_Oh. Carol. So soft. Baby_."

Baby. I could hardly believe this was Daryl Dixon. The very same Daryl Dixon who if you were lucky managed to grunt out more than twenty words or so a day. Daryl Dixon who hated and constantly complained about all the unnecessary talking everyone did.

"_Feels so good. You feel so good. So good_," he cooed into my mouth.

Right now in this moment were more words than he typically said to me in a whole day even as close as we had become over the last year. Words whispered with reverence into my mouth, words whispered between the wet tangling of our colliding tongues, and words whispered with heated intent. I could feel the wetness pooling in my eyes. I was going to do this. Give it all up to him.

His hand slipped over my rib cage, stroking. His fingertips traversing my abdomen in a slow, sweeping rhythm moving higher each time until I felt his hand just under my breast.

A/N: Daryl's thoughts if you want them, next. In first person, if you would like? How much does this mean to him?


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead.

A/N: I hesitated so much with this storyline because I not am sure that I can capture Daryl as eloquently as some of the other writers on this website. The Walking Dead fan fiction writers on this site are amazing! In any case, here is the requested update. I am going to give the backstory as requested as well that should explain the direction of this chapter. This chapter starts in Daryl's POV.

The First Time

Chapter 3

_**Merle always joked it was it was best thirty seconds of any man's life, damn fuckin' Merle for bein' fuckin' right, again.**_

_**~Daryl Dixon's inner voice**_

Didn't know it would feel like this. She would feel like this. Want 'er so much, so long. She can't possible know, can she? Can't believe it feels this good. She is so soft under me. Smells so good. How the fuck is that even possible? Damn-those little fuckin' noises she's makin' "ah's" and "oh's". Is she enjoyin' it? Ah! Jesus. Fuckin'. Christ. It's coming. Pulsating-can't even begin to explain this feeling. Can't get close enough ta 'er. Fuck. Oh. Fuck. Can't stop it. Don't wanna- Oh! Yes!

"Carol!" I cry out jerkin' on top of her. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! We don't even have our clothes off yet and I dun ruined it! I bury my head in her shoulder, embarrassed.

"Daryl?"

Love that voice. So soft, sweet makes me believe anythin' is possible in this fucked up world. "S'rry," The word comes out in a slurred rush.

"We have all night," she whispers, pressing her lips softly to my ear. "It's okay."

I nod against her shoulders. It's most definitely not okay, but I know 'er. I know 'er now. She's everythin'. Can hardly believe we have survived to this point, so few of us left now since the prison, the governor, and findin' Morgan. I lift my head slowly. Starin' down into those big blues eyes, feels a lot like drownin' sometimes. "I want it ta be good."

"It will be," she whispers as she look up at me with this look, this fuckin' trust. "I'm nervous, too."

She smiles. I smile. "I love ya, Carol."

Her fingers tangling in my hair and give me a tug toward 'er sweet mouth. "I love you, Daryl."

We've come so far from where we started that night on the road. Where it all started…

**~Two Years Earlier~**

Daryl squinted into the darkness. He couldn't see a thing past the tree line. Not that he expected to in the dead of the night, anyways. Not that it really mattered because he was used to relying on his other senses. Sound. Smell. They were better than sight at times. He had honed those senses long before the end of world. He needed them in the house he had grown up in. Hell, they were practically a fucking survival requirement in the Dixon household. He turned before Rick even spoke.

"Sorry, man." Rick held up his hand. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Ya didn't." Daryl replied flatly.

"Why don't you catch some sleep," Rick suggested, rubbing his hand down his face. Exhaustion was clear evident in the sheriff's reddened eyes.

Daryl looked back over his shoulder toward the fire rather than responding. The glimmer was a dim hazy orange from their stance at the perimeter.

Rick sighed at his lack of response. "You need to sleep, Daryl. Glenn and I are taking the next shift." Rick stated, leaving no room for argument.

Daryl frowned before nodding at Rick. He walked reluctantly back to the fire. Last thing he wanted to do was sleep. Sleep meant thinking and dreaming. Things Daryl didn't relish in this moment. That was even if he could sleep. He wandered if she was still wake. His teeth bit at his ragged nail as he approached the their makeshift camp sight. He could see Maggie huddled next to her Dad and little sister Beth. Lori was curled around Carl, protecting him from the cold. T-Dog was huddled close to the fire, his mouth open as he snored. Daryl's eyes flickered to one person that he was hoping to avoid.

He sighed. Carol was curled into a ball, her knees pressed to her chest. Worse yet, she was shaking all over only this time it wasn't from crying. Shit. She was freezing. Too damn skinny. Damn it.

Carol's teeth were chattering. She couldn't quite believe how cold it got at night. The ground underneath her was hard and unforgiving. She could hear the wind as it howled through the trees, ruffling the leaves making the cold seem each more acute and keeping her on high alert. She heard Daryl's approach. She figured he would settle himself down on the other side of the fire somewhere farther than the group, but instead she heard the crunch of his boots on the ground nearing her.

Daryl dropped down next to Carol, shrugging off his jacket. He twisted to place it over her shoulders.

Carol turned to him. "I'm fine. You going to freeze." Carol lied trying to keep hold off the teeth chattering as she extended her hand to him with his jacket.

Daryl's eyes narrowed. "Ya. Not like ya shakin' or anythin'."

Carol's fingers fisted in the leather as she contemplated her answer, she had already said too much earlier. She was somewhat shocked that he was still talking to her. "Daryl…" she started.

"We're not arguin' bout this Carol." Daryl said his voice low and determined.

Carol sighed. She turned around and laid her head down her fingers pressed into the cold dirt. The jacket helped a little. "Thank you, " she said softly, but loud enough for him to hear her.

Daryl swallowed hard. He had never been like this in his life. Never really thought about anything or anyone. Took care of his self since he was six. Hell, sometimes he even took care of Merle and his Pop. His eyes drifted back to her. Fuck. She was still shaking. He knew the damn jacket was not enough. Fucking hell.

"Lift yer head," Daryl whispered.

Carol lifted her head, instinctively.

Daryl slipped his arm underneath her. "C'mere."

Carol edged backward slightly, cautiously. Not because she feared Daryl in any way, but she feared his reaction too much closeness whether instigated by him or not.

Daryl could feel her hesitancy. His own body was wound tighter than a drum. Touch was not something he was comfortable with rather it was something he avoided at all costs. "Relax," Daryl mumbled.

Carol nodded and dropped her head slowly onto his arm. His bicep was almost as hard as the rigid ground, but it was infinitely better. Warmer. Sweeter.

Daryl closed his eyes, trying to block out her nearness. Her face was soft, her breath tickling the skin of his arm. She smelled sweet which had to be craziness because they had been on the road all fucking day. He swallowed hard, ignoring the impulse to tug her closer. Fuck, what was it about this woman that had him thinking and doing these crazy things. "Ya good?" Daryl whispered.

Carol nodded her head against his arm.

Daryl's eyes drew back to the line of trees just beyond the fire. He would close his eyes, but not sleep. They weren't safe like this, out in the open even with them walking a perimeter.

Carol stirred. Blinking, she struggled to shrug off sleepiness. Her eyes opened to brown cotton. She blinked again. Yes, brown cotton. Daryl's shirt, her teeth sunk into bottom lip, She was flush against him or rather he was flush on top of her. Carol could feel his warm breath against her neck. They were tangled together. His face nestled into the crook of her neck. Hers was against his shoulder. His leg was wedged between hers nestled high pressed intimately between her thigh. She could feel his right hand on her lower back fisted in her sweater. He shifted in response to her stirring and Carol froze.

Daryl stilled for a second before tugging her closer, groaning in his sleep as if to protest any movement away.

Carol closed her eyes, letting him pull her closer. Her hand resting gently on his waist held tight as she felt herself relax into him, drifting back to sleep.

Thoughts? Worth continuing? Thank you for reading!


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